


History

by Arones



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:59:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arones/pseuds/Arones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the turn of the century he started coming to her at night and stealing her from the sleeping form next to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

James was sleeping soundly next to her, just has he had for decades: ever since she and the rest of the five had gone after Worth. It was after she had seen John that she realized she needed to chance the dance, move on and switch to a new beat. James had wanted to court her; she placated him and let him take her to dinners and shows. It was months and months later that he had entered her bed chambers and even months after that before he had the courage to stay the night.

She lay awake next to his very quiet and relaxed form. She could see the aging on his face, the extra lines here and then a few gray hairs. Yet, she knew that he was working on a way to stall the process. He had wanted to stay with her for longer than this lifetime and, she had to admit, she wouldn't mind one bit.

She felt his presence as soon as he entered the room. The fire was dim, but she could make out his form in the corner. Glancing at the man next to her to make sure he was still sleeping she took a throw off the bottom of the bed and threw it around her naked body. She made her way over to him, her face looking up into his. A pale hand came out and grasped her shoulder—she felt the electricity flowing through her cells as he teleported them.

She would have turned to grasp her bearings, but his eyes were not leaving hers. His hand did not move only held on tighter pulling her closer. Lips crashed into hers as his other hand made its way into her hair. Her fingers released the material where it held and exchanged it for the cloth of his coat. Her throat issued a moan as fingers glided over her front, down her breast and to her stomach.

His mouth tore from hers and his voice was low when he spoke, "I can smell him on your skin, love." Taking hold of her shoulders he pushed her back into a bed. She tumbled down on top of the covers gasping at the sudden move. He undressed quickly and clambered on top of her, pressing her into her body heavily.

His lips where on hers again, tongue forcing its way into her mouth his hands bruising her wrists as he pulled them above her head, the grip threatening circulation. She moved her hips up to meet his, arching her back as far as she could. Her teeth skimmed over his thin lower lip, biting as he pulled away to ravish her exposed neck.

Breathing picked up as tongue and lips made trails down her body. He bit harshly under breast over her ribs, marking her someplace she would be able to hide it from him. Her voice cried out at the sudden pain as it raked through her body. He released her hands, but she kept them above her head, knowing that if she moved them to his flesh he would only hold her again. His nails scraped down her sides to her hips moving her body as his tongue found her wet and waiting.

"Has he ever made you tremble like this?" His teeth nipped lightly and her entire body convulsed and shook with tremors of pleasure. She didn't answer instead drawing a lip in her mouth and biting until she tasted blood. He continued his ministrations until she was on the brink. He stopped suddenly, pulling away from her body before moving to her mouth again. He stayed above her until she opened her eyes looking at him. "Does he worship your body, sing praises to its beauty, give you what you deserve?"

She watched his face, her entire being unmoving until she lifted her head off the pillow, her lips covering his. He moved into her quickly, taking her fast and hard not allowing deep breaths. She felt her release as he found his.

He returned her to her chambers as dawn broke through the night sky. Her skin was humming as she looked at the man sleeping next to her—his body unmoved in the hours since she had left. They were alone, the only sounds from his soft snoring and the crackling of a dying fire. Her voice was barely above a whisper as her finger curled over James' cheek. "No."


	2. Chapter 2

James asked about her lip. She said she bit it in the night. He told her to be more careful. James asked about the bruise he found on her side. She said an abnormal had hit her on accident. He told her to be more careful.

James left for two months to go to America; Tesla was working on a new project there and James felt as though he should make sure the man wasn't about to blow anything up or sell the invention to the highest bidder.

Helen wrote him on a regular basis and ran her Sanctuary like she always did. One week before he was set to come home to London he received a letter from her, requesting Tesla join him in his return. Odd coming from the woman, but he would deny her nothing. So with some massive amounts of prodding he convinced the man to come.

She was waiting for them at the dock as the ship came into view. She kissed both on the cheek as they departed their traveling counterparts and the home they had on the sea. James took her hand as they made their way back to her home.

It was that night, as James rested after travel, that she confronted Nikola. "I need your help with something."

"Helen," his voice seethed, "Have a problem you can't solve? Need dear Nikola here to find the solution for you?"

"Stop it. I can't do this by myself; I need another person to assist."

"Then why not ask your dear James, I'm sure he would help out." He was losing his accent that she had grown used to.

"I can't." Her eyes moved to her hands as they held each other in front of her body, tightly controlling.

Nikola stopped: there was something off about her request. "What do you need me to do?" Taking a sip of wine he watched her, his body lax and waiting for her to speak. When she didn't he continued, "I really can't help you if you won't tell me what it is I'm supposed to be doing. I may be a genius but I am not a telepath." His voice was taking on an annoyed edge.

"James mustn't find out about this."

"Alright, but you have to tell me what first."

"Promise me Nikola." Her eyes locked on his. "He cannot find out."

He softened his features, his voice and moved closer to her. "I promise, Helen." He was sincere, she could see that.

"I'm pregnant." He didn't respond. "The baby is not James'." Ah, there was the catch.

"So what do you want me to do?"

"I'm going to freeze the embryo, but I need you to help with the procedure."

He nodded, "When?"

"In two nights; James has a meeting with the Prime Minister that should last all afternoon and into the evening before both are required at a Gala."

He took another sip of wine, "Til then, my dear Helen."


	3. Chapter 3

James was resting next to her; his body had taken a beating when they were in France, by none other than Druitt himself. Helen hadn't been witness to that torture, but she knew it had happened. That was the only way that the German had known how to kill James. He was falling asleep. He had tried to make love to her, but she had feigned weariness and rolled over facing away from him.

She felt him fall into slumber as her mind twirled around inside itself. He was good man, and she loved him, but she was not in love with him. The war was coming to an end; England would continue to stand with the aid of America. She had not ventured there since the end of the Great War. When she had visited New York and started her Sanctuary there, expanding the network further. Perhaps she should go back and begin one on the other side of the country, maybe James would come with her.

He appeared in the exact spot he had the last two times and she knew immediately, as always, that he was there. She moved over to him, letting him teleport her away from the man in her bed. His mouth was on hers before she had time to draw in a breath. He was pushing her back to the bed, pulling the gown over her head roughly. He was angry.

James had admitted they were together, practically throwing it in his face. When he had seen her face, when the SS brought her into the bunker he had known. She was settling with him, becoming comfortable. He bit her harshly on her hip causing her to wince. "He's not in love with you."

It was a statement, but she felt as though she should respond. "I know." His tongue lapped at her, his fingers digging into her thighs.

"You're becoming accustomed to being with him." He pushed her knees up and threw his body over hers, his face buried in her breasts. One of her hands was on his back, the other in his short hair, trying to find a grip.

"Yes." A gasp as he pulled her nipple into his mouth, pulling and swirling his tongue. His fingers rolled the other, his hips undulating into her. She lifted her hips trying to move him into her, he gallantly ignored her advances.

He moved a hand to the crease between her leg and hip and shoved her body back down. Her head came up and she tugged his head to hers taking his mouth. He ran his tongue up and down her neck, over her collar bone and down her chest again. She moved her knees up once more and he complied, moving into her.

It was hard and it was fast, his anger running the show. Her body was shoved up the bed until her head hit the board, crashing into the wood with each thrust. She would have a concussion if he went at it much longer. She tried to turn them, but his momentum kept her from making the change. "You're pregnant."

Her hands stopped their roaming; her mouth opened and closed trying to answer, to come up with a lie. It wasn't worth it, "Yes, I am." He didn't stop his fingers closing over her clit and pinching hard. His lips covered hers, his tongue and hands drawing out a moan. He rubbed furiously her body tensing and relaxing quickly under him.

She was close. He pulled out of her and flipped her over so she was on her stomach. Throwing his hand under her body he pulled her hips up slightly and pressed into her again. She braced herself as he pounded into her body, his fingers finding her again. A cry tore from her mouth as she tightened around him.

He moved his hand to her hip pulling her body back into him as he pushed into her. He followed in silence before turning her over again and punching her swiftly in the abdomen. Her voice broke in pain as her body instinctively curled away from him. He only held her legs in place before throwing another wild punch into her soft body. He continued to assault her body, breaking bones and bruising flesh, allowing his anger an out.


	4. Chapter 4

James asked her what happened. She said she miscarried. He told her he loved her and that they would get through this. James asked her why. She said she didn't know. He told her they would be ok.

She left soon after, moving to America to begin her newest Sanctuary. She left James behind to run the original, the first, the pride and joy of the Sanctuary Network. She added new security parameters, ones that she had so graciously learned as a POW in France that would keep out the most notorious serial killer.

It kept her busy for years. She worked day and night to make the Old City Sanctuary one of the best. She gained acquaintances within the city quickly, fast becoming friends with a priest in the fifth ward. The most dangerous of abnormals were sent to her, where she kept a close eye on them.

She didn't talk to James often and only over the machine that Nikola had created. Nigel had died soon after she had begun to make her new home and he left her with a note. She hadn't opened it yet, afraid of what it would say. The man was always brutally honest with her and she feared what he thought of her decision to leave James and London. Nikola disappeared after the end of the war, leaving her alone.

She often would go down to her new lab and take out the frozen embryo, looking at it and checking to be sure it was still viable. She would hold the container in her hand and think about a time when she would have given anything to have this child.

Before she knew it more than thirty years had passed and she hadn't been down to visit the frozen child in over a year. Stepping into the room she pulled open the freezer and held the child in the palm of her hand. She was ready. Calling for her manservant, they set about reintegrating the child into her body. She would bring it to term and she would give birth to this life form.


	5. Chapter 5

The form slumbering next to her was quiet, bundled in blankets and keeping warm in the chill air. It was winter and although it didn't get so cold here she couldn't help but feel the chill. Running a finger over the soft flesh she felt the lights flicker on and off. Power surges, they had been going on for hours, her oldest friend was working on the problem after he had ordered her to bed.

The lights dimmed to nothing and the room was plunged into darkness save the fire roaring below the mantelpiece. The lights shimmered over her body and the face next to hers, her hair flowing out on the pillow. She could see his face in her mind; the piercing blue eyes as they looked at her with disdain and hatred.

It was then that she felt him. He was standing next to the bed as she shot up instantly putting herself between him and the sleeping form. His hand rested on her cheek, but she pulled away. She was not playing his games any longer—this dance would stop now. "I love you."

"I know." She responded, not giving an inch.

"Did you ever love me?"

"That's hardly relevant."

He only bowed his head, "I already know the answer."

"Then why do you ask it?" She was watching him, eyes on his face and never breaking the contact.

His eyes were watching her lips, remembering the way they used to caress him, kiss him, and make love to him. "Do you love me?"

She stopped at that, if he knew the answer—why would he ask? She would answer him. "Yes." It was then that he heard the cry behind her. Looking over her shoulder he saw the bundle on the bed, wrapped tightly in a small blanket. He moved her to the side, his large hands grabbing hold of her arms and physically shoving her to the side. Immediately she moved back between him and the infant. "John." It was a warning.

"I won't do anything rash." He made eye contact with her, showing her that he truly wouldn't. She took a step back and retrieved the small body and holding the girl close to her chest. "Can I see her face?"

Helen moved the bundle so the girls face was visible. His finger ran down her cheek just as Helen had done earlier. She was still watching his face, waiting for him to snap back to the murder that he had become. "She's two months old. I named her Ashley."

"And most beautiful, exactly like her mother." He leaned forward and placed his lips against the girl's forehead. His hand moved down Helen's arm to rest at her elbow. "Our child. Our daughter."

"How did you—"

"Tesla. Never trust a vampire." He leaned in and kissed the woman's cheek and moved his lips to hers. She was lost in the moment her mouth moving against his, tongues dueling. He pulled back slightly and pressed another kiss to the infant forehead. His voice grew deep and his eyes hard, "I must go now."

"John—" But he had stepped back from her and was already gone. She rocked the baby in her arms, closing her eyes against the tears, "Goodbye."


End file.
